


It’s All Gonna Happen

by Molly_Hats



Series: Kinda-Sorta Writing Teamups [4]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batwoman (Comic), Grayson (Comics), Huntress (Comics)
Genre: Boarding School, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Spyral
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-10 19:19:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13508091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Molly_Hats/pseuds/Molly_Hats
Summary: The adventures of Helena Bertinelli & Bette Kane.  Following from their meeting at St. Hadrian's, to forgetting each other due to Kathy and Hypnos, to reuniting as Birds of Prey.On indefinite hiatus





	1. Hope You Survive the Experience

**Author's Note:**

> Bette and Helena are both in 7th grade/Year 8  
> Bette is 13, Helena is 12

Helena Bertinelli slipped through the doorway of her new room at St. Hadrian's and set her suitcase down neatly on the floor at the foot of her new bed. Her eyes scanned the room, taking it in. She carefully breathed deeply, like her cousin taught her, her fingers rising to grasp the gold cross necklace at her throat. In one-two. Out one-two. 

The dormitory was long and narrow, wallpapered in dark wood paneling. A few windows sat high up near the ceiling, the last of bits of sunlight barely squeezing through sideways. On the wall opposite the beds were some dressers and shelves, and a desk with a large computer monitor and a pile of equipment she couldn't make neither head nor tail of. The only other bed in the room was separated from hers by a pair of identical endtables with equally identical lamps, both covered in scraps of paper and other clutter. The walls around her roommate’s bed were papered with posters and drawings, the bed piled with throw pillows, a Nancy Drew book lying upside down and open on the red bedspread. It looked weirdly settled for the first day of semester. 

She shoved the clutter over onto the other endtable. A folded piece of paper fell onto the floor and she knelt down to pick it up. Curious, she started to unfold it, revealing that it was in fact several sheets of paper folded together, covered in nearly illegible notes and crossed out diagrams. 

“What are you doing?”

Helena’s head snapped up guiltily from the half-opened papers. 

The girl in the doorway to whom the voice belonged strode over in seconds. She pulled the papers out of Helena’s hands and tucked them into her own uniform’s shirt before placing her hands on her hips.

Helena stared at her. She was gorgeous, around Helena’s age, with curly blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail with two locks of hair framing her face. 

“Well?” The girl said expectantly. 

“I’m Helena. Bertinelli. Helena Bertinelli,” Helena stuttered, slowly rising to her feet with a generous boost from her arm. She resisted the urge to clear her throat and asked, “Who’re you?”

“Mary Elizabeth Kane,” the girl said. “Call me Bette.”

“Sorry for poking through your stuff.”

Bette waved a hand and laughed, serious expression vanishing. “Come on, I didn’t actually expect privacy. It’s St. Hadrian’s, for fuck’s sake.”

Helena’s shock must have shown on her face, because Bette laughed again, harder. She brushed past Helena to her own bed, shoving the Nancy Drew book out of the way before flopping onto it on her back, arms up like she was about to make a snow angel. 

“Welcome to St. Hadrian’s,” Bette said, her gray eyes glowing in the last shafts of light. She grinned up at Helena. “Hope you survive the experience!”


	2. Chapter 2

Helena found Bette in their room, drawing in her sketchbook and enthusiastically singing along to her CD player. Her enthusiasm and volume didn’t match her skill, although Helena gave her the benefit of the doubt and figured she was imitating the nasally singing style.

Bette looked up as the door opened, quickly shutting the book and reaching out to pause the music. “Hey, Hela. I’ve been waiting,” she said as she leaned back to rummage in one of the desk’s drawers. “One second,” she said, sticking one finger in the air and burying her arm deeper and deeper in the drawer, her legs flailing as she balanced. “A-ha!” she finally exclaimed triumphantly, producing a tupperware filled with cookies. She flipped back upright and popped the box open, holding it out to Helena. “Alfred’s cookies,” she explained. “Worth dying for. He gave me a bunch when I visited.”

Helena glanced back at the door warily as if expecting Matron to swoop down on them and deliver a lecture on keeping their tummies flat, then quickly reached out and took one. She took a bite.

“Sooo, whadaya think?” Bette asked. 

“I can’t tell,” Helena said seriously. She stuck out a hand. “Let me try some more.”

Bette smirked, but obliged, placing the box in Helena’s hand. 

“Who is Alfred?” Helena asked. 

“My cousin’s butler. He’s pretty great, took care of Bruce after his parents were murdered.”

“Oh! I remember hearing about that.” 

“Yeah.” Bette shrugged. “I was too young to know them.”

Helena took another cookie.

“You’re from Gotham?” Bette asked.

Helena looked startled. “Y-yeah. Left after my parents died.”

“You’re an orphan?”

“Yes,” Helena said defensively.

Bette held up her hands. “Me too. Don’t remember my parents.”

“You’re lucky,” Helena said firmly. She bit into her cookie.

“I’ve mostly gotten passed around to relatives,” Bette explained. “I went to stay with Aunt Addie and her family, but then my uncle turned out to be a mercenary, one of his enemies came back while I was out of town, cousin Joey almost died and lost the ability to speak...it wasn’t pretty. Aunt Addie was pissed, so she shot Slade.”

At Helena’s incredulous look, Bette added, “That’s honestly a pretty good example of how my family does problem solving.” She grabbed a cookie from the box. “Don’t worry, Slade survived. Which is also pretty good example of how my family does death.”

Helena raised her eyebrows but said nothing.

“You remember your parents?” Bette prompted.

Helena nodded, her eyes distant. “I was eight.”

“I’m sorry,” Bette said, and Helena’s eyes snapped to her, leaving the memories.

“Don’t be,” she said brusquely. “They...weren’t good people.”

“What do you mean?” Bette asked innocently.

“Come on, Bettegirl. You’ve heard what the other girls call me. ‘Mafia princess.’”

“And they call me Crazy. I figured it was just because you were Italian.”

“They’re not that stupid,” Helena said generously.

“Oh.” Bette’s eyes fell to the floor. Helena couldn’t remember seeing her look like that, ever. 

“Those relatives you got passed to? I got passed too. They sent me back to Sicily, because I was the only one who survived. All the Bertinellis, wiped out, except me.”

Bette edged closer, reaching out to touch Helena’s arm. 

Helena didn’t shift away.

Bette stroked Helena’s arm comfortingly if awkwardly. Helena leaned into the touch, and Bette, surprised but happily so, shifted from her chair onto Helena’s bed to hug her outright.

“And they sent me here,” Helena finished, and Bette knew that was not the whole story but she didn’t care. 

“I’m glad you are,” Bette said, arms looped around Helena and head leaning on her shoulder. 

Helena murmured, “Me, too.” 

They sat there awhile longer, holding each other, eating Alfred’s cookies, and listening to the sounds of the dormitory.


End file.
